


No rest

by kingollie



Series: Sewer Gators [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Clancy cant sleep and who can blame him?, Fluff, M/M, Polyamory, dead? nahnah bro theyre good, i like these three ok, i like writing these, just nice stuff today boys, sewer gaytors am i right??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-10-06 21:49:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10345260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingollie/pseuds/kingollie
Summary: 4 days after the "Baker incident" and Clancy still can't sleep. And he's pretty sure he'll never be able to again





	

**Author's Note:**

> Weee! These guys needed fanfiction, so yours truly stayed up until 1am to write this. Maybe next time I'll write something crueler idk

Clancy used to hate sharing beds, as a child he'd had to deal with three older brothers. With a bedroom for two it hadn't been great to fight with three bigger, stronger, older boys. He had to deal with being pushed onto the floor, shunted about, having covers tugged from him and all manner of things of that calibre. The man distinctly remembered as a child promising never to share a bed until he was married. 

Times had clearly changed.

Currently Clancy lay, squashed up, in a bed made for two people at most. He was wide awake, at three AM. The other men lying on either side of him appeared to be fast asleep, the sound of their breaths and muffled snores filled the room. Clancy was honestly surprised that they could manage to sleep at all. After all the shit that had happened to them. Of course they hadn't experienced as much of the hell he had, but they'd seen atrocities too. Lunatics, blood splattered walls, ghastly inhuman noises. All manner of horrendous occurrences.

Maybe they were just really exhausted, Clancy wouldn't have been too shocked to find that out. He was tired as well. So, so tired. But unlike them he couldn't find it in him to actually attempt to sleep, every time he did the “rest” was plagued with nightmares. Decapitated heads, mangled bodies, the stench of blood and vomit that hung like fog in the air. Demented laughter, strangled screams for help. Constantly looping, over and over and over. Sleep wasn't worth repeating the days before. 

So he lay, eyes fixated on a stain smeared on the ceiling above him. Part of him wanted to get up and stretch his stiffening legs. However, he knew that wandering out into the dark living room alone would be overwhelming, the dark always felt suffocating, ready to close in and eat away at his body like fire. Suddenly Clancy froze mid-thought, the snoring had stopped.

He jumped when Pete rolled over, letting out a squeak of terror.

“Easy there hippie,” The smaller man, clapped Clancy’s shoulder, face twisting into its most concerned look -only mildly so-, “you can't sleep?”

“No, not really. It's fine, I'm not tire-” Almost like his body hated him a deep yawn fell from his lips. “-d.”

“Uh-huh. Oh, I believe you.” Pete shifted upwards, mimicking Clancy’s sitting position. “What's wrong?” The man tilted his head, raising a hand and brushing a strand of hair out of Clancy's face. The other man flushed, looking down.

“Nothin’, just nightmares. I'm fine honestly.”

Pete practically scoffed at his words.

“Oh you're fine are you? I don't believe that for a goddamn second, you look like someone's dragged you through hell and back. Come on, tell me, that or I'll wake up Andre. He’ll have something to say I’m sure.”

“Please don't…”

“Tell me then, about the nightmares, it's supposed to help.” The shorter man leant back against the headboard, eyeing Clancy expectantly.

“It's just… everything. That happened, all the blood and people and death. Over and fucking over. I could write a-a fucking novel o-on all the sh-shit I-I am- I'm goin- too muh-much. The-the p-poor people the-they ate th- an-and kuh-killed, I'm -they, I could -sh-should've.” Clancy couldn't control the flow of words spilling out from his mouth. Anytime he attempted to bring them under control he'd dissolve into stutters and his voice would hitch and waver, sounding about ready to break. Pete watched him with a look of pity etched into his tired features.

“Okay, it's okay. Hey, shh. Don't freak out man, it’s okay. We're okay.” Pete shifted closer, his lined face creasing up as he hushed the other, trying to quiet Clancy’s gasps. “Fuck- please don't cry.” Upon these words the lump on Clancy’s right moved slowly under the sheets, before sitting up.

“What on Earth is going on?” Andre sounded slurred and still half-asleep.”Pete what did you do to this poor man?” One of Andre’s hands came to rest gently on the small of Clancy’s back. 

“It wasn't me! Mostly. I think.” Pete snipped leaning forward and frowning at Andre. 

“I-I’m fine.” Clancy glanced over his shoulder at Andre. “P-Pete was tryna help.”

“Fine? You look like shit, no offence.” The broader man winced.

“That's what I was saying!”

“I-I need sleep, I kn-know. But I ca-can't. I-I-.” 

“He's having nightmares.” Pete interjected, nostrils flaring. “I asked him to tell me about them. Safe to say it wasn't a good idea.”

Clancy cringed, looking down, embarrassment and shame burned in him, his face flushing red, as if from heat. He felt awful. Tired, stressed, nervous, hungry. Broken in all senses of the word. He swallowed, trying to at least slow the onrush of emotions he could feel building in his throat like a bitter bile. The first sound he let out was a whimper, as soon as it slipped from his mouth the rest came with no hesitation. He wailed. Driving the heels of his hands into his eyes, an attempt to stop the flow of salty tears beginning to stream down his face. 

“Ah-ah, fuck- Clancy?” That was Andre, leaning close and trying to get the man to look up. “Sh! Don't cry, you're alright. I'm promising you, you're going to be okay.”

Clancy felt one of the men grab his wrists and tug them away from his face. 

“Clancy, look at us.” As Pete spoke he raised his head very slightly, opening his streaming eyes. “You're going to make yourself sick if you keep doing this. Look, I get - we get - it's hard for you to sleep. But you have to try, this is the fourth night in a row. You need to sleep.” Clancy sniffled loudly, still trying to control his irregular, rasping breaths. 

“Lie down, okay?” Andre was already pushing him back, guiding him under the layers of duvet and blankets piled atop of it. Clancy let himself be moved, he had no fight left in his system. He allowed Pete to shift the pillows around his head before curling up on his side, eyes still open. He listened as Andre moved about under the covers, trying to get comfortable. He froze as the man settled just behind him, winding his arms about Clancy’s middle. Pete moved about too, laying on his side, faces inches from Clancy’s.

“Can- can I-I,” Clancy begun, already nervous at the prospect of asking Pete for a favour, let alone one like this, “can I ho-hold you?” He wanted something close to his chest, somewhere to put his arms. He needed it.

“Knock yourself out.” Pete grumbled, dragging himself nearer to the man. 

“Thank y-you.” Without much effort Clancy drew the smaller man close, smiling when Pete made a muttering noise, obviously not sure about his current predicament. Andre let out a sigh, completely untensing as he slipped easily back into the realm of unconsciousness. Soon his breathing had slowed, asleep within in minutes. Clancy lay there, Pete was still awake too, he hadn't started snoring yet. 

“Night, hippie.” Pete's voice was muffled entirely by Clancy’s collarbone. “Sleep well and shit.” 

“Night Pete.” He murmured, watching the second man grow softer as he began to drift off. Clancy’s own eyes were becoming too heavy to keep open, he closed them, just as Pete started to snore. The sounds were actually comforting, they were soothing and more importantly: not coming from murders.

Clancy could feel sleep beginning to grip at the edges of his conscious, he thought back to when the three of them had made it out. His sheer, giddy delight at finding his companions very much alive. He forced himself to concentrate exclusively on these things. He felt his head grow lighter. And within moments he too was claimed by sleep.


End file.
